This was the third bottle opened on Friday night while Ros was here, and that was a poor decision. Not because of its taste, which is full and red, but because of Saturday morning's headache. As hangovers go it was mild, but on the throbbing side of noticeable. Having indulged rather too heartily on Friday, we punished ourselves by only drinking what was left in this bottle on Saturday night. So Saturday - my parents' 50th wedding anniversary - was distinctly sober. It meant a good night's sleep, though, and I woke this Sunday morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.